


the golden age was somehow bittersweet

by gatoliasw



Category: Actor RPF, Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, brief sorta angst?, get together fic?, i feel like a evil goblin for writing this, i made a whole different ao3 account to post this, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatoliasw/pseuds/gatoliasw
Summary: Richard wakes up at 3 AM, sweaty and disoriented. He blinks a few times and drags his hands down his face, sighing heavily. Dream-Taron is still vivid in his mind, blissed out and looking ruined and smiling up at him.idiots. theyre dumb.





	the golden age was somehow bittersweet

After hard scenes, Taron desperately needs to be held. After hard days, lying in Richard's arms on his or Richard's bed late at night, he either cries like a baby into his chest or stares off into space blankly. It's only the latter that worries Richard. That's when he knows Taron needs something else from him. He’s asked before, whispers the question in the calm moments after Taron’s finally gotten all the tears out of his system. To his dismay, he's never gotten an actual answer. It’s most often met with sniffling and a shrug or just silence.

Today, after Taron’s calmed down, Richard subconsciously kisses his forehead. He realizes what he’s doing the moment his lips touch the other man’s skin, and his face suddenly feels extremely hot. Taron freezes and blinks the last tears out of his eyes. He looks up at Richard slowly.

"You know how you're always asking me if there's anything more I need when I go all weird?"

Richard nods.

"Well," Taron breathes, "That’s it. I need you to kiss me."

Richard raises an eyebrow. "Like, on the forehead? Is that it?"

Taron shakes his head, then opens and closes his mouth. "I mean- don't take this the wrong way, okay? You're my best mate, Richard."

"Right back at you, T."

"Okay. I- uh. How do I say this? Rich, I need you to kiss me. Actually kiss me."

Richard opens his mouth to speak and Taron holds up a hand.

"Just as mates, Dickie. I just- I think when it gets bad I need to be reminded that I'm real and I'm not a character or a shell or some shit like that. I need physical touch and just being held isn't doing it," Taron finishes, refusing to look up at Richard. Taron feels Richard inhale deeply and exhale a breath. His eyes flick up to Richard and meet his gaze.

"I'll do it, Taron. No dramatic convincing necessary. You're my best mate. Whatever you need, I'm here for," Richard replies, and he sounds the most genuine Taron thinks he has sounded in his life. Taron sighs and curls in closer to Richard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in. Richard laughs lightly, pulling Taron in and kissing the top of his head. An odd but comforting warmth floods through Taron and he is asleep in minutes.

~~~

The next heavy scene Taron has to film takes so much out of him that everyone on set takes notice. At the end of the day, no one approaches him. Richard makes sure he's set to go home, then leads him to the car and back to his place. He convinces Taron to shower, and when Taron comes out of the bathroom, Richard is there with takeout and sweets. Taron allows himself to be looked after and fussed over mostly because he doesn't have the energy to fight it. He stands by the bed and stares at the windows, not actually send it of them, picking at his nails subconsciously. He can hear Richard talking to him and briefly snaps out of his daze just enough to actually talk to him. "Hmm?"

"I said, are you any better?" Richard asks, and the concern lacing his words makes Taron's throat tighten. Taron opens his mouth to respond, and closes it again. He doesn't have the brain power to talk right now. He shrugs because he honestly has no idea if he's better. He's drained beyond words, but he feels a lot more like Taron and million times less like Elton. Richard sits on the bed, and holds a hand out for Taron to join him. He does, and almost instantly collapses into Richard's arms. Taron has already cried (he sobbed for 20 minutes in the shower), and he figures he won't again. Richard holds him, rubbing patterns on his back, breathing steady. Taron decides he needs more than just being held. He pulls back slightly and looks up at Richard. His gaze, for however briefly, flicks down to Richard's lips, who notices this and gently leans his forehead against Taron's.

"You sure, T? I don't want to make you uncomfortable at all..."

Taron shakes his head and grabs Richard's shirt lightly. "I'm sure, Rich," he manages to mumble.

Richard nods, closes his eyes, and leans in at the same time Taron pulls him in by the shirt. Their lips meet, and the rush of relief that floods Taron's body makes him shiver. He may or may not actually sigh into Richard's mouth. Richard is warm and his lips are slightly chapped, and Taron feels real. He pushes a little forward, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Richard makes a surprised noise and pulls back, scanning Taron's face. Taron's eyes are still shut and his breathing is uneven, but he looks much calmer. His eyes slowly open, looking up at Richard with so much feeling he thinks he might combust.

"Can you do that again?" Taron breathes. Richard nods just a little too enthusiastically and pulls Taron back in. In his fervor he _may_ accidentally roll onto his back and Taron _may_ accidentally end up lying on top of him.

All accidentally, of course.

They break apart for a few seconds, and just stare at each other.

"Alright, mate?" Richard asks. Taron gives him a soft smile.

"Alright," he says, and dives back in to kiss him again. Richard hums a contented noise, slackens his jaw, and brings both hands up to run his fingers through Taron's hair. he subconsciously closes his fist in his hair and pulls, just a little. Taron takes a sharp inhale through his nose and a shudder runs down Richard's spine. He moves one hand to the back of Taron's neck and down his back. Taron scrapes his teeth lightly along Richard's bottom lip and he will never, ever admit it but he actually whines.

Richard tastes like chocolate and fortune cookies and faintly of scotch and cigarettes and it's completely and utterly intoxicating.

An obnoxious ringtone cuts through the quiet room and they break apart too quickly for either of their likings. Taron sits up a bit, straddling Richard's lap. They're both breathing heavily and neither actually wants to get up. It's Taron's phone that's ringing, and he considers letting the call go to voicemail, but ultimately rolls his eyes and climbs off of Richard. He finds his phone, answers the call, gives Richard a "one minute" gesture, and leaves the room. Richard stays on the bed and stares at the ceiling, wondering how in the world he ended up snogging his best mate and if he's actually supposed to continue helping Taron calm down like this. _But, to be honest,_ he thinks, _this is better_ _than Taron crying to the point of dehydration_.

~~

Weeks pass, and their arrangement shifts from only kissing by necessity after heavy scenes, to also when they're both bored out of their minds, to whenever they get a spare moment. Miraculously, they're caught only once. They forgot to lock the bathroom door and Jamie walks in on Taron pinned to the wall and Richard kissing down his neck. They both try to explain, but Jamie just told them to "have fun, be safe, and lock the door next time". Jamie never mentions it again, and no one else does, either.  
It becomes just regular fun; something to pass the time and to focus leftover energy on.

When Richard wraps, Taron can't help but feel a pang of sadness. He brushes it off as being annoyed that he has to see his best mate less often, and doesn't give it any more thought. He allows himself to miss the outlet their arrangement had given him, but refuses to admit to actually missing the act of snogging Richard. Taron was straight, and that was that.

~~

A few months after the film is completely wrapped, Richard wakes up at 3 AM, sweaty and disoriented. He blinks a few times and drags his hands down his face, sighing heavily. Dream-Taron is still vivid in his mind, blissed out and looking ruined and smiling up at him. He fumbles for his phone, turns it on, and winces at the brightness. He considers texting Real-Taron, has his contact pulled up and everything, but suddenly remembers it's 3 AM and he would most likely be asleep. So he texts Jamie instead.

_**Hey Jamie, you awake?** _

He gets a response back in minutes.

**Now I am**

Richard rolls his eyes.

_**Can I call you? I'm having a Problem.** _

He capitalizes the "p" and hopes Jamie understands what he means.

His phone rings seconds after.

"Hello?"

"Richard, if you woke me up at 3 AM for a bullshit problem I might actually have to kill you."

"No, it's actually a problem."

Jamie sighs. "Yeah, alright, what is it?"

"I had a dream about T."

Silence.

"Jamie?"

"Shut the fuck up, Richard."

"What?"

"Are you serious? You woke me up at 3 AM because you had a dream about your best mate? Why in the world would that-" Jamie stops short. "Oh wait."

Richard nods, then remembers he's on the phone. "You get it?"

"Like, a _dream_ dream? A _sexy_ dream?"

"Like, worse than what you saw during filming. _A lot_ worse."

There's a long silence, a text notification from the other end, and then Richard hears Jamie laughing

"What now?"

"Richard, I love you, mate, but I'm not the one you should've called."

"What? What do you mean?"

Jamie laughs again, _actually snorts_ , and says "should've called Taron," and hangs up.

Richard looks down at his phone, wondering what in the hell he meant. He decides he doesn't have the energy to analyze it now, at almost 3:30 AM, so he doesn't. He gets back into bed and goes to sleep, but Dream-Taron doesn't stay away for very long.

Unbeknownst to him, Jamie had received a text from a certain someone while he was on the phone.

_**jamie I think I love him** _

~~

The next time Taron sees Richard is at a bar in London, a week or two after he had texted Jamie in the middle of the night, terrified and panicking. He’s tried his hardest to get his heart to stop beating out of his chest whenever he sees the man (and it’s been mostly unsuccessful). They’re both a few drinks in, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Taron can’t stop staring at Richard, who somehow hasn’t noticed anything. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands; he keeps fidgeting and playing with the hem of his shirt. Richard only seems to notice something’s off when Taron almost knocks over his glass, and he can’t tell if that’s better or worse than not noticing at all.

“T, are you alright? You've been awfully quiet and you’re acting strange.”

“I’m fine,” he responds much too quickly, looking down at the surface of the bar. He twists the glass around mindlessly. He can feel Richard’s eyes boring a hole in his face and his cheeks start to heat up. Richard places a hand on Taron’s thigh.

“Hey,” he says, voice low. Taron reluctantly meets his gaze. “Do you want to go? We can go to yours, if you want.”

“It’s fine, Rich. Seriously, there’s nothing wrong.”

Richard raises an eyebrow. “There is, though.” He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, pays, and slips off the stool. “Come on, T, let’s go.”

Taron looks back at his hands. He lets out a heavy sigh, downs the rest of his drink, and follows Richard out the door.

The drive back to Taron’s apartment is just long enough for him to gather the courage to say something to Richard and short enough that he can’t overthink what he’s about to do. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Taron shoves him against the wall. Richard’s eyes go wide and a high-pitched squeak slips out of his mouth.

“You’re an ass,” Taron mumbles, and it comes out much more like a growl than he meant it to. He pulls Richard in and kisses him hard. He feels Richard relax into it, and then Richard’s nipping at his bottom lip and licking into his mouth and he’s being walked back into another wall. Taron hears a moan and it takes him a second to realize it came from him. Richard’s hands move to his waist and he starts kissing down Taron’s jaw, pulling another moan from his throat.

“Was this what was wrong?” Richard asks, moving to suck a mark into his neck. “You missed me? You like me?”

Taron nods, gripping at Richard's shirt. “ _Fuck_ , Rich, _yes_ ,” he whines. “I like you so goddamn much.”

Richard laughs, the _nerve_ , and pulls back to look him in the eyes. “God, T, you’re so gorgeous. You have no idea how much I missed this. Absolutely none.” He sounds breathless and it makes Taron want to completely ruin him. Then he gets an idea.

“Tell me.”

Richard stops and cocks his head. It’s the cutest thing Taron thinks he’s ever seen. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me how much you missed me.”

Richard smirks. “Oh, you’re taking charge now? Alright, big man,” he teases, sending a shiver down Taron’s spine. He runs a hand through the other man’s hair and pulls. Taron bites back a moan and starts unbuttoning Richard’s shirt. “I missed you. I missed kissing you in closets and bathrooms between takes,” he says, shrugging off his shirt and pulling Taron’s over off his head. “I missed your mouth. I missed getting pinned to the bed and kissing you until I can’t breathe. I missed that look on your face when we got too heated; that blissed out look.”

“ _Shit_ , Madden,” Taron says, and it’s almost a moan. He starts walking Richard backwards towards the couch. He shoves him down, climbing on top of him and kisses down his neck to his chest. Richard groans loudly, and Taron stops for a second and looks up. “Well, continue with your list.”

Richard rolls his eyes. “You need your ego stroked that badly, huh?”

“Need a lot of things stroked.”

Richard’s cheeks flush and Taron grins and goes right back to sucking a hickey on his chest. He takes a shaky breath in, and continues talking. “I had a dream about you a while back, a few months after you wrapped.”

Taron hums, effectively egging him on.

“All that time without you and without kissing you started to get to me and I had a dream we hooked up, I think, I can’t remember all the details but- _shit, T_ \- I woke up and was gonna text you but I called Jamie instead because I didn’t know what to do and he told me I should’ve called you-”

“Hold on,” Taron interrupts. “I told Jamie a few weeks ago that I was in love with you and he told me the same thing, that I should’ve texted you!”

Richard snorts, and starts cracking up. Taron joins him a few seconds later, though neither actually know why they're laughing so hard.

“That little asshole knew _all along_ and said nothing!” Richard wheezes.

“Christ, we’re idiots.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Absolute tossers. But we figured it out eventually, so does it actually matter?”

Taron considers this for a minute, then leans down and kisses Richard, sweet and slow. “I guess not.”

Richard sighs. They kiss for a bit, mostly making up for lost time. Richard is the first one to speak again, his voice low.

“What was that you were saying about needing things stroked?”

“ _Fuck_ , Rich, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“What are you gonna do about it, then?”

Taron grins. “You.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is me just being Gay and Touchstarved also i haven't written in so long if this sucks im sorry its not my fault  
> thanks to arin and mary and rich for supporting this idiocy!
> 
> tumblr: gatoliasw  
> twitter: jeltoneohn


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